Remembering Cassandra
by IAmSoRandomItScaresMe
Summary: She found hell and went there and back because of other people's greed and hate. He fears love for being hurt. They lost their best friend without any way to say goodbye. They fear not being able to hold on. "I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." -Mother Teresa
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! Now I know that I already have two stories in progress, however I've had this written for a few months and wanted to see if it is worth continuing. Review and let me know...maybe?**

 **BTW please don't hate me if I don't update Catching Kirsty for a while, I have some ideas, but they're not fully formed in my head...**

I take a deep breath.

In.

Out.

Why am I so nervous? I've been doing this since I was fifteen.

I shouldn't be nervous.

Stood outside of the CIA's east coast branch in New York, preparing for the next step in my career.

Finally mustering my courage, I walk inside, showing my ID to the secretary at the desk. He looks up at me and then types into the computer in front of him then looking back to me, saying, "Floor twenty-two, then you should be able to find the Director's office from there. Weird eyes, by the way."

With that he hands me a key pass to the elevator and smiles at me politely.

Thanking him, I walk to the elevator bank at the back of the room, my heels clicking loudly on the marble floors. As I'm waiting for an elevator to come, I think about how royally fucked up my life is. I graduated high school at fifteen, went straight into the CIA while also studying my PhD in modern languages, learning 27 languages on top of the two I already knew, becoming the best modern translator in the world while also being a field agent and an interrogator and finally winding up with a transfer back home to New York. Where I lived until I was fourteen. Then I watched my mom, dad, both of my older brothers and their soulfinders shot on my birthday.

 _I know why you're so nervous now,_ I think to myself, _you're back in the worst place for you to be with your PTSD. It's better than San Francisco, though._

A ding brings me out of my rivière and into the elevator, swiping the card and stabbing the button with a '22' on it.

The doors glide shut silently, with the elevator rising smoothly but quickly, causing my stomach to churn. I've never liked fast elevators.

When it reaches the floor, I step out into a typical CIA office setup, except I can't see any way to find the director's office. Plus, it's empty.

Turning to my right, I decide to walk around the room until I either find the director's office or someone who can help me. As I'm walking past an open door, a large body walks out of it, crashing into me and spilling whatever hot drink they had in their hand on themselves (I think tea), while also dropping a large file.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Here, let me help you," I say, crouching down to help him pick up his papers.

"Hey, don't worry. It's fine, stop. I'll pick them up," he says, setting down the mug on the floor and scooping the papers into a messy pile. He picks them up, shoving them into the folder while I grab his mug and we both stand up. He's at least four inches taller than my 6 feet. He's also really familiar. "I'm Chris. Sorry for running into you. Have we met? You look really familiar."

"I was thinking the same thing, I'm Cass. It might be my eyes, though I don't know anyone else who has blue-brown heterochromia," I smile. I've always been a little insecure about my eyes, but Chris is one of the first people who hasn't mentioned them.

"That's weird, my little sister was called Cass and she had the same heterochromia that you do. Apparently it's really rare and more common in men than women."

"Was?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.

"She went missing on her fourteenth birthday. They were looking for her until her twentieth birthday, eight years ago." He sounds dejected. When he looks at me again, I see something in him, that I saw every day of my life in my mother, my brothers and in the mirror. His brown eyes. Staring at me in the way only a stranger does, but with such a familiar and memorised feeling.

"Wait, your name isn't Christophe, is it?" I breathe, my eyes wide.

"Yeah, most people think it's Christopher, but it isn't. I drew the short straw name wise with second gen French parents," Chris rushes out. "Why am I telling you this, I don't know you."

I laugh, smiling at my big brother, "Oh, but you do, Chris." I hold my hand out for him to shake, "I'm Cassandra Marina Bouchard and mostly Bouchard-Grey. I'm your little sister and the best modern translator in the world."

"Cassie?" He whispers, eyes wide. "How...What happened..." He can't even form words.

"How am I alive? How are you alive? You were killed in front of me." I drift into a hysterical whisper, tears in my eyes.

"What? You went missing on your birthday and we never found you. I don't know how, if you're in the CIA, coz Dad is the official director." He's smiling like an idiot now.

Guiding me over to a desk, where he puts down his papers and all of the stuff in my hands, he swings me into a really strong hug. We laugh at each other, squeezing until our arms hurt.

I hear a door open and I'm releasing my brother and a voice shout, "Chris! What the hell takes you so long to get tea you weak bastard!"

Looking over Chris' shoulder, I see a slightly shorter and older version of Chris standing in a doorway to an office. "Mom and Dad are getting impatient! We're still waiting on that new translator to show up, but she should be here any second!"

"That would be me." I speak up, stepping around my brother.

Chris turns around and picks up his papers and mug off the desk, "I think I have more important news than this case, Mitch," he walks over to him, gesturing me to follow him.

"What? The translator is a model? I thought you weren't that shallow, man." He tries to joke, "Wait, she looks really familiar, was she at school with you in high school or something?"

"That's offensive, adding four years to my twenty eight. Nothing that shallow, Mitch. Think closer and fourteen years ago." I respond, folding my arms across my chest and looking him straight in the eye.

"Oh, _shit, shit shit shit shit_. MOM! DAD! Get out here!" He yells, twisting his head back into the office he came out of.

"Quit yelling, you insufferable child, you never grew—" my mother's voice echoes through until she is stood in front of me, " _Merde_. Robert!"

"I thought you said you'd sort him out, Marian. You were always favourite par—" he cuts off as he is stood in front of me in the office doorway, just behind my mother. " _Baiser,_ Marian, why didn't you say something?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, I know that I should be updating Begging for Mercy and Catching Kirsty, but I've just had so much inspiration for this story that I ploughed out 3,000 words (3 chapters) in one day. So I might be one of those people who have five or six stories going at once. Sorry...?**

 **I'll try to update CK by the end of the month but this one might take over.**

 **let me know what you think in the reviews and I'll try to keep going with all three stories.**

"What the hell is this?" I demanded, throwing the case folder onto Mitch's desk, "You're sending me to Wrickenridge? Colorado? Why can't another branch do it? I can't go back there, I spent my summers there, with the Benedicts. Imagine me just showing up there and being recognized, I can't exactly blend into the crowd with these!" I jabbed my fingers towards my eyes.

"Cass, calm down. You have to because you are the only agent who is trained in the field that can pose as exactly what you are. A gorgeous young woman who is insanely smart and can speak more languages than I can name! You are the best agent for any mission and you know it. Anyway, you aren't there for a field mission, you're there for a recon and an interrogation." Mitch soothed me, barely looking away from his computer.

"There aren't any hotels open in summer," I recalled.

"Yeah, you're staying with a government family, you'll be fine." He waved his hand flippantly at me, "Go pack, you leave tomorrow and you'll be there for at least a month."

I shake my head, rolling my eyes at my brother.

Why didn't I check what family I would be staying with?

Shaking my hands and head, I leave my car on the street and walk up the familiar gravel drive to the bright blue chipped front door. Knocking twice, I look at the file in my hands with the details the family knows on top.

A teenage boy opens the door, an angry, brooding look on his face, "Can I help you?" He snaps.

I don't even blink, I'm unfazed by his rude behaviour, I deal with worse from the Russians I interrogate. "Is there an adult here I can speak to? Drop the attitude, it doesn't effect me, I deal with two older brothers who can do more damage than you."

He snorts and steps aside to let me into the entryway, "Wait here, I'll get a parent for you." How walks down the hall yelling, "MOM! DAD!"

I avert my attention to the upright piano against the wall that looks almost as old as me and touch the middle C key when a set of footsteps comes up behind me. "How may I help you miss?" A kind, familiar voice asks.

I look up and see a face I could never forget, the face of a man who was my second father, "Saul?" I whisper, shocked.

"Yes, that's me. You must be the agent sent to stay with us."

"Oh. Yeah," I say, handing him the sheet I was given that explains everything they need to know on it, "I'll bring my bags in later, if that's okay with you"

Saul glances up to acknowledge my statement but furrows his eyebrows, "Cassandra Bouchard-Grey, where have I seen that name before?"

"Probably my birth certificate, you were there for my birth, when I was just Bouchard. It's nice to see you again, Saul." I whisper with wide eyes.

"Cassandra, as in Cassie? My dear girl, you've grown up! What happened to you?" He exclaims, his eyes filled with joy.

"It's probably best to explain to your whole family, it's a long story," I say, looking down at my feet.

"The boys have missed you, Cassie."he murmurs, pulling me into a hug.

"I've missed them too, Saul," I say into his shoulder.

An hour later I'm in Uriel's old room, where I used to sleep during my summers staying here. Saul said to stay in whichever of the three oldest boys' rooms I like and to make myself comfortable.

I've just finished writing an email to Mitch and Chris saying that I landed safely and I've arrived at the Benedicts' home etc etc. As I stand up and stretch, I hear voices from the entryway and I realise I'm still in my "professional travel" clothes so I decide to change into jeans and a shirt.

 ** _Uriel's POV_**

"I got a week off work so I was wondering if I could stay and help at the rafting school, Dad?" I ask, seeing my father look happier than he normally does.

"Of course! You can show the government lady around Wrickenridge for why she's here as well." He says. Wait, what government lady? "She's upstairs, Uriel."

"I'll go put my bag in my room, who else is coming for dinner tonight, Mom?" I ask through the hallway to the kitchen.

"Everyone, darling!" She yells back.

Traipsing up the stairs, I hear Vick arrive with Kirsty, their argument carrying through the entire house. I reach my door and see it shut, unlike the Trace's and Vick's on either side of it. Weird, I think, pushing it open to see a heavily tattooed back facing the door, pulling a t-shirt over their head.

"Shit, I'm sorry." I say as she whips around, her dark brown hair flicking into her face.

"No! You're fine! I was just getting changed to come downstairs," she explains, pulling her hair over her shoulder. "I'm Cass," she greets, extending her hand for me to shake.

"Uriel," I respond, "You look familiar," something about her makes me feel like a kid again.

"It's my eyes," she says, gesturing loosely, but I can only see one, that's light blue, "Come on, let's go downstairs." She then walks out the door and skips downstairs like a little kid. I laugh and follow her.

When I get into the living room, I see Cass lounging next to Xav and Zed who are play Call of Duty or something. "Dibs playing winner," I hear from both Cass and Kirsty at the same time.

"Nope, Kirsty, you always win, but I'll let the pretty new girl play if she's nice," Xav winks, grinning.

"Xavier Benedict! Be polite to our guest, she works for the government you know, and she can find all of your dirty little secrets!" Mom says walking into the living room.

"I'm 28 by the way, a bit too old for you," she says, "I'm Cass, and you're Vick, Xav and Zed, where are Will, Trace and Yves? Ahhhh, that sounded like I'm a serious stalker, sorry," she cringed away from our confused faces.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ummmm... Hi? I know I said I had this written like two months ago, but I changed about half of it soooooo**

 **hope you enjoy it!**

Cass POV

Shit, first my childhood best friend walks in on me changing and now I've given away how much I know about this family, oops...?

"Cass, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a moment?" Karla asks, gesturing me to the door.

I follow her through and start talking, "I'm so sorry, that just slipped out and I feel like I'm lying to them not telling them who I am yet."

"Cassie, you'll be fine, Trace, Uri, Vick and Will will be so happy and the others will eventually remember you. It's lovely to see you again, after all these years, you've certainly grown up into a beautiful girl." I blush at her words and look down at my hands and the tattoos lacing up and down my arms. "You look like a tattooist though, with your inked arms." She winks at me, smiling kindly.

"They were a therapy for me, when I missed my family while in San Fransisco, I found things that reminded me of them and just got them inked, you should see my back." I laugh weakly and sit down.

"I'm home, Mom! I brought the stragglers too, they were at the diner." A voice shouts, getting quieter as they get closer. I look up as a group walks into the kitchen, three men and four women walk in, the oldest man speaking.

"Trace! Finally coming to see your mother! It's been months!" Karla exclaims, hugging him and the others. "This is Cassandra, she'll be staying with us for a month for the government." I wave from the stool at the breakfast bar while Karla goes back to dinner.

"Cassandra, hey? We used to have a Cassie come stay with in summer as kids." Trace says as the others walk to the living room. "She suddenly stopped coming to see us after I turned fourteen though. She was so awesome, and pretty too, but don't tell Diamond, my wife." He grins at me and walks out of the room, leaving me stunned and confused.

"I was pretty?" I look to Karla in question.

"You still are," she replies, "Come out and talk to everyone, you can explain now, seeing as they're here."

I get up and follow her into the room, pausing at the door to look everyone over. All but two of them have some sort of partner and are lounging on the sofas and on the floor. From what I can tell, all of the boys are at least 6'2", but they're sitting down.

"Cass, come sit down,you can tell us what you wanted to tell us now." Saul says, smiling at me.

"Okay," I mumble, making my way to a pillow on the floor next to Uriel, "I should probably start from the beginning.

"My name is Cassandra Marina Bouchard-Grey. I was born on July 25th, 1986 in Denver, a few days after some of my parents' very good friends had their second child. The husband was listed as my guardian if anything were to happen to my parents.

"I grew up in New York, keeping to myself and just being a kid with two older brothers. I spent my summers here, with my parents' friends family. I spent every single summer here until my fourteenth."

"Wait, what do you mean here? Like Wrickenridge here or Colorado here?"

"Wrickenridge. I grew up as 'one of the boys', being the older sister to most of them, but my mom never let me cut my hair like a boys.

"Anyway, for my fourteenth birthday, my family decided to take a road trip to get to Wrickenridge instead of flying to Denver and driving in. It was meant to be fun, but then I was kidnapped. We don't know the details of exactly what happened to me, but I was placed under a hallucination. They made me believe that my family was there with me, and I saw them shot in front of me. When someone found me, I couldn't speak, I wouldn't look at anything, or eat. I got placed in the foster system for about a month, until I broke into my school and set all of the computers to be in different languages. I was angry at the principal saying that language arts had no place in society.

"The head of the San Fransisco government department I work for somehow found out and offered to adopt me and give me a job in the field department. I accepted, and then I moved in with the Chief and his wife. I finished high school by the time I turned fifteen and I went on the study languages at college in my spare time. I liked them so much I became an interpreter...and went on to get a PhD in modern languages, learning 27 languages fluently along with the two I already spoke. So fresh out of college with a doctorate at the age of 23, I started travelling for the government.

"I didn't stop. I found out that tattoos are weirdly therapeutic when I think about my family, so I got a few, and then more and more and more. I kept a sketchbook. Several. My personal mission was to become a master of hiding my emotions and I was good at it. Until the call to transfer to New York came through.

"I moved back to New York to find that my family wasn't dead, they'd been looking for me for ten years and then had to give up. You've probably seen them recently, Robert and Marian Bouchard? And Mitchell and Chris, their sons. My parents and brothers." I didn't notice the tears when they were falling, but I do now, the edge of my shirt soaked. "We pieced together a rough idea of what happened fourteen years ago, but we don't know for sure. Um... Then I got a case to one back out here on the trail of an international drug dealer hiding out here, and got to come back to the home of the family I spent my summers with." I look up at the family, to see the shocked faces of almost all of the boys. "So, yeah, I'm Cassie, Trace."

I tuck my hair behind my ear, exposing my blue-brown eyes.

"Wait...so you didn't think to come to find us? I'm not ungrateful, but why not?" Uriel says, looking confused but happy.

"I didn't know how, and I didn't speak for a year after my birthday, I only wrote things down and drew. I was scared that no one would want me. I only spoke the day I was adopted by my adoptive parents."

"We missed you Cassie," I hear Victor say, looking up from his hands which are in his lap.

I meet his pale grey eyes and smile softly, nodding my head in agreement. "I wanted to come back, but John said that he couldn't keep me safe, so it wasn't a good idea."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys... I know it's been a while, but I have good reasons! I was travelling and then I came back to school to a flood of end of year assignments (I live in New Zealand) so I just couldn't update.**

 **I have the next chapter ready so I hope you like this one. Please remember this is set in an AU to Misty Falls because I didn't read that until I started writing this story. :)**

"Who's John?" Karla asks.

"Jonathan Grey, my adoptive father of 13 years. He was nice. Until about six months ago." I say, about to delve into secrets. "He... Ummmm... He started abusing his wife, Katie. I reported it and he's in jail now, but when I accidentally arrived while he was hitting her, he just hit both of us. I'd gone to tell them about my transfer to New York, I didn't want to go, but after that it became the best option. Katie went with me after the trials and the divorce case."

"Has she met your parents yet?" Will asks.

"Yes." I say shortly. "Can we move on, I don't like talking about this."

"What are your tattoos?" Uriel asks.

I laugh, stretching my arms out. "Jeder tag ist ein geschenk means 'every day is a gift'" I say, pointing to my right wrist, "'Veni vidi vici' means 'I came, I saw, I conquered,'" I show my right index finger. " I have 'brave' on my elbow for forgetting fear. And the daisy is for hope of a better day." I shift my shoulder so that they could see it, lifting my shirt sleeve slightly. Shifting to my left arm to expose my wrist, "'miles to go' is to remind me to think of the future. It was my first tattoo on my eighteenth birthday. The birds coming from the forest is hope, escape and independence." I gesture to one of my largest tattoos that slopes up my arm on all sides. I then pull up my sleeve to show the only colour on my arms, on my shoulder in red, 'M'aimer pour qui je suis' "This one means 'to love me for who I am'. It was either this one or 'la vie est faite de les petits bonheurs' which means 'life is made up of little pleasures'." I say, not mentioning the tattoos on my back or the two on my ankles.

"What about your back? I saw a lot on there," Uri grins, teasing me. I just roll my eyes.

"Later, creeper." I laugh. "Now that you know my entire life story, I believe some introductions are necessary." I look around at the accumulation of girls amongst the family of boys.

"Well, I'm Diamond, Trace's wife," an elegant woman says, she looks almost like Cleopatra.

"I'm Crystal, Di's sister," the tall girl sat next to the tallest of the Benedict boys, Xav, says.

"I'm Sky," the little blonde girl says, looking a picture of innocence.

"I'm Phee," a girl with a dark pixie cut says, looking slightly wary of me.

"And I'm Kirsty" a reasonably tall girl sat next to Victor says, swatting him away as he tries to kiss her cheek, "Oh, time for our news now. This loser finally grew a pair and popped the question." She grins and holds up her left hand, with an expensive looking ring on it.

"I knew it!" Phee, who can't be much older than nineteen shrieks, "Yves, I told you so! Totally saw that!"

Yves, who is sat next to me mumbles, "Not all of us have freaky mind reading, Phee." He then sits bolt upright and stares at me, scared that I heard.

"Wait... Mind reading?" I blurt, staring at Karla and Saul. "But you... You aren't... No! You can't be!" I stare in shock, not comprehending. "Oh for god's sake! I missed that! How the hell did I miss that!" Closing my eyes, I feel with my gift, feeling the swarm of many powers around me.

"Cass–" Uriel starts, only to be cut off by me.

"No! How could you! Why would you lie to me as a kid!" I cry, still not making any sense.

"Cassandra, what the hell are you trying to say?" A voice booms out, laced with persuasion.

I turn blindly towards it, to come face to face with Victor, who has crouched in front of me. "You're all savants! Like me," I yell into his face, panic building inside me. I look around and see the shocked faces of the Benedicts. "And now you all think that I'm crazy. Great."

To my surprise, Karla starts laughing. "You're telling me in the forty years I've known your parents, they've been savants this whole time?"

"Yeah," I laugh with her. How couldn't my parents notice? "How did you manage to hide the terrible toddler phase with gifts?" Mine was easily hidden, I just hid myself.

"You missed out on Yves' phase, we got it over and done with before summer." Saul says, "How'd you hide yourself?"

"I can manipulate other peoples and my own gifts and abilities, I can enhance, project, minimise, steal, duplicate, prevent, and so on, I just prevented my own gift, with Mom and Dad's help." I shrug, playing it off. "So gifts, seeing as I'm here for a month, I don't want to be freaked out."

"Zed and Mom are number seven, so that's obvious, Sky can read emotions, Yves is fire boy, Phee can read thought -patterns and freeze them, Xav is the healer, Crystal is our gold dust, soul seeker, Will and Dad danger sense, like our own personal alarm bells, Vicky here manipulates minds, so keep your shield up, he'll try to get you to do his chores, Kirsty and her twin are teleporters, she's people, Naomi's big stuff, I can read memories, but they have to want to see them, Trace tracks things and people by touching them, and Di peace keeps, she won't let us tear each others throats out. It's no fun." He winks at me, grinning.

I laugh and roll my eyes at my childhood best friend, "I've always thought your family was different, mainly because your parents were crazy enough to have seven kids."

Everyone has gone into their own conversations, leaving Uri and I in our own little world. "So, Doctor Cassie," he teases, I snort, "What are your twenty nine languages? That's an impressive count."

"Well, I grew up speaking English and French, seeing as my parents were second Gen French. then I started with Mandarin, Spanish, Arabic, Russian, Icelandic and Japanese for my first year at college, then second year was German, Indonesian, Turkish, Italian, Polish and Ukrainian. Third year was Romanian, Swahili, Dutch, Greek and Swedish, fourth was Cantonese, Catalan, Nepali, Afrikaans and my Prof conned me into Latin. Masters year was Czech, Thai, Vietnamese, Bengali and Punjabi. For my PhD I studied how peoples backgrounds made them more or less intuitive to identifying and using languages."

"So you learnt about five languages a year and can speak a dead language?" Uri said, partially in awe and partially amused.

 **I hope you enjoyed it, the next chapter is a bit of a filler, just to give you warning, but i ges more exciting after that.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Here it is :) it's short and a filler, but I hope you like it**

Uri and I spent the two weeks he managed to get off work together. He took me down to the rafting school and we went kayaking, we ran in the woods every morning. When his family went to the lake nearby I explained my tattoos to him, especially the map on my back. When I started travelling, I got a blank map with all the country borders lined in, then every country I went to I got coloured in. My tattoo of the Empire State Building down my side for home, the lock and key on my ankles.

I convinced him to take a trip into Denver and we spent the day walking around and having fun. I begged him to get a tattoo with me and all he said was, "What would I get, I have nothing that needs meaning on my skin." He then grabbed me around the waist and hoisted me up onto his shoulders while I shrieked.

Uri taught me to paint after not doing it for years, he had gotten so much better than when we were twelve. After one particular session, we went into town to the diner for lunch. It was Saturday so it was packed, but we managed to get a table at the very back. Just as we finished, Karla called Uriel and asked us to pick a few things up from the supermarket.

When we got everything we needed, I ran into May Hoffman.

"Watch where you're walking, young lady!" She huffed, then turned to look at Uri, "Uriel Benedict, is it? You haven't been home for months, your mother was telling me how worried she was about you."

"I've been quite busy with my job in Denver, Mrs Hoffman, I travel a lot as well, otherwise I would come down every weekend." He said respectfully, pulling a face at me when she looks away, I stifled a giggle, causing her to look at me.

"Is this your girl, Mr Benedict? She's certainly pretty, not so sure about the tattoos though."

Uri looked awkward, "No ma'am, she's just a close friend."

"I'm Cassandra Bouchard, Mrs Hoffman, I spent my summers with the Benedicts for many years." I interrupted, refraining from rolling my eyes at how crass she is.

"Oh little Cassie Bouchard! Why on earth did you stop visiting? Those boys became trouble makers after you left."

"There were some family issues," I said shortly, hoping to end the conversation.

Of course she had to try to find out what. "What could possibly stop you from coming to see those boys?"

"We really should get going, Cass," Uri started pulling me to the checkout.

"My family died." I tossed over my shoulder to May Hoffman, who stood there shocked.

"I can't believe you said that!" Uri laughed after we paid and left, making the walk back to the Benedict Family home.

"I just wanted her to shut up," I replied, laughing too.

Whenever I had nightmares (which was almost every night), Uri would come and sit with me until I fell asleep, then he would usually fall asleep next to me. On his last night before he had to go back, I had the worst nightmare I had had in years.

I'm standing in a warehouse, unable to move. I see a group of ten people in front of me, Mom, Dad, Chris, Mitch and Katie. They were gagged and tied to chairs. I cried out, it was like my fourteenth birthday all over again. Five people stood behind them, holding a gun to their heads. It is exactly like that day, that still haunts me, except everyone is grown up and different somehow, they've given up on trying. They can't see me, I'm in the dark and they're in the light. I try to scream, but it just comes out like a strangled sob.

I hear the sound of a bullet sliding into the chamber, then another, and another and two more simultaneously.

There's a pregnant pause and then all of the guns fire at once.

The bodies slump forward in their restraints.

I sat bolt upright in bed, screaming my throat raw. Uriel burst in the door to take in my ragged appearance. The tears running tracks down my face, my hair escaping its loose braid and my heaving chest and pounding pulse.

"Shhh, it's okay Cassie, it wasn't real, it wasn't real. I'm here now." He curled me into his arms and his chest as he slides into the bed. I sobbed quietly, glad I have someone just here.

 _Thank you, Uri I_ was too tired to speak, so I just used telepathy. Uriel stiffened slightly, then just stroked my hair until I fell asleep.

"It's okay darlin'" I thought he whispered as my breathing calmed and I let the darkness consume me.


End file.
